Forsaken: The Edge of Everything

The Uthra Cornell traveled through the sacred lands deep within the wilderness of Northern California. With him, White Buffalo and Faun. Their purpose, to save me.They knew I had been captured after the trap at the gathering had been sprung. To do so was to put themselves in unnecessary risk, one that could cost them their lives.

For hours they traveled, until Cornell’s senses lead him to a mother bear, and knew he was on the right track. After a time they came to the mouth of a great cave, a ritual half circle of bones guarding it’s entrance. This was the place from which they could perform the ritual to save an entity from the Rising Deep.

White Buffalo a wise member of her tribe explained the plan. Cornell would perform the ritual from within the bone circle, a rite she would teach him. Faun and she would protect him during it’s casting. The ritual itself would reach into the spirit world to a place where the Fomori could and likely would cross-over from. In his concern Cornell offered his weapon to Faun, who was appreciative in her way. And so the lesson of the ritual began.

Elsewhere, Devlin Monroe returned from the Hisil, the guise of a Paradrop spirit fading and returning his true form. He turned back towards San Francisco, returning to the Sea Lion Inn where his pack was set to reconvene. A room over from the alpha, Brook the Cahalith dreams.

Silver being pressed, the sound of it growing louder with each passing moment. The heartbeat of the Earth, plates of earth grinding with pressure building. His lover’s heart beating. The heartbeat of an unborn child. He awakens and seeks the presence of his pack. Brook and Devlin Monroe speak to each other, but neither talks of the weight upon their hearts.

From the darkened corner of the room Delia the Irraka reveals herself, having been there during the entirety of their conversation. She tells them of two things — The Golden Gate Guardians would aid them in the fight to come. Any two members of their pack could be called for and would join the cause. The other, that the women of Ukiah were being held in the Den of the Sons of Thunder.

White Buffalo’s tutelage at an end, the preparations of the ritual began in earnest. Cornell moved to the half circle of bone warding the cave. Before he could step across the line, a roar of bestial rage and fury rose from within the cavern shaking the Ithaeur to his core.

An hour passed he learned to master the fear of the primal spirit of the bear within the cavern. When he took his step across the line of bone, charms of bone hanging from the cave entrance rattled violently — as if something within had stirred.

Careful to not enter the cave, he began the casting the rite. Runes etched into the ground and his own blood used to fuel the spell’s power. The ground beneath his feet began to dampen, and the air became thick with moisture. The spell was working, the Rising Deep was coming. The portal opened, and Cornell howled.

For my part, pain wracked my body. Toxin pulsed its way through my body, paralysing my form but not dulling my senses. Each hook like tooth that pierced my skin as I lay trapped in darkness was a sharp reminder of the power of the deep.

Howling, the sound came to me and as it did, the power of the toxin began to wane. Taking the opportunity I change into my war form, and with some difficulty slice my way through the massive tentacle that has been my prison. Above the negative image of the Old Bear Den guides my way as I swim, the vicious tentacles chasing after me.

The damp earth beneath Cornell gives way to mud, and it begins to rise up his form. He sputters water from his mouth and gasps for breath as he begins to drown, but continues to focus his mystic will. Behind him, White Buffalo and Faun fight the Fomori that have risen from the damp earth beyond the bone circle. White Buffalo drains moisture and life from her opponents as Faun performed dazzling feats of agility, leaping from opponent to opponent bludgeoning them with the weapon Cornell had graced her with.

The gateway before Cornell began to ripple and then burst forth as I leapt through the portal of water. Cornell gestured for the portal to close, the sounds of combat intensifying behind him. As it shut, a tooth from the tentacles slashed outward and was promptly cut from the limb it once served. Wasting no time, Cornell grabbed the offered tooth and joined the fray.

Many Fomori were slain that night, and the four of us parted ways soon after. Cornell and I to San Francisco, White Buffalo and Faun to Ukiah.

As the television in Devlin Monroe’s room changed from entertainment to news Delia’s watched the report that came on with special interest. The Third Third are being recalled from Ukiah. Accusations of sexual assault, the strange disappearances of law enforcement officers and vagrants paled in comparison to the headline. Kyle Miller Wincott, leader of the Third Third was wanted for the murder of the Mayor of Ukiah, his personal pistol found at the crime scene.

Sharp eyed Delia turned to her alpha, a smile on her face “Sooooo… murder, huh?”

Wolfishly grinning in return “Yeah.”

A moment later Delia heard it, the sound of ticking. A ticking bomb.

Outside of the Inn, Cornell and I arrive to a strange sight, a message. A standard issue marine corp locker. The smell of paint and blood emanating from within. A thunderous roar as the hotel explodes, the heat washing over us, carrying screams from the ruined hotel. The two of us ran towards the burning structure. We couldn’t know that moments before Delia, Brook, and Devlin Monroe had lept to varying degrees of safety through the back window.
A woman and her child were all we could save.

In the wake of the blast Brook is able to determine that military grade explosives were used, and Delia searched but could find no sign of enemy.

Together the pack travel into Golden Gate Park, to Strawberry Hill. The planning point for the strike on Ukiah. The Golden Gate Guardians meet us, and I place down the Marine locker, and Devlin Monroe wants nothing to do with it. Inside the box I find the head of a blond woman, Devlin Monroe’s mother, the glyph for ‘blood traitor’ carved into her forehead. A note, written in blood ‘Blood will out’, ‘No kin of mine’, ‘you’ll all drown’, ‘you are impure’, ‘Forsaken for a reason’.

Enraged Devlin Monroe kicks the locker and it’s contents down the hill. And we begin planning for War.

Of The Golden Gate Guardians, Devlin Monroe selects Ronny Shinigami the Ithaeur, and Smoking Mirror’s Daughter the Irraka. But he has no idea of what the resistance of the Third Third in Ukiah will be like. Walter Kimihiro, a Kitsune provides the answer. He’s been in communication with Faun, who has procured an iPhone and has done the reconnaissance for us.

The city choke points have an increased military presence, as is the case with their den. A helicopter and a tank patrol the highways and city limits. Wincott is absent from the photos, indicating he could be in the Hisil.

Assignments are given out. White Buffalo and myself charged with taking the Helicopter, and the deadly Stern. Cornell and Shinigami to stop the daily sacrifices providing power to the Warbird. Walter and Devlin Monroe will travel to the Sheriff’s department to create a safe point for the city civilians. Delia being tasked with repurposing the Third Thirds Tank. Smoking Mirrors Daughter to hunt for snipers and ambushes. Brook to hold the den. All dependant on the first step, taking the Garage, their den, back.

We set our sights on Ukiah. Meeting at the intersection of Lincoln and The Great Highway. The Urtha mystics open our path to the assault, a Moon Bridge connecting San Francisco and the distant captured city.

Our motorcycles roar thunderously as we set ourselves on the path, Devlin Monroe leading the charge. We travel into the sky at incredible rates, stars above, the Earth far below. Ice clings to us as we begin our descent, directly into a cloud of Paradrop spirits.

Hails of bullets rip through the air towards us, and in response we swerve and avoid as many bullets as we can, taking no small amount of physical harm. Foxfire and bullets sling back at our attackers in response, spirits dropping from sight, many more replacing them.

One after the other, The Sons of Thunder break through the spiritual blockade, Devlin and Delia followed quickly by the rest. I find myself harried by the spirits and take a leap from my bike, mauling a Paradrop in the air and riding it through to the earthly plane, as we arrive in Ukiah.

Delia, having just witnessed the truth about the disappearing veterans, narrowly manages to slip away from the corn hole and heads downtown to find Wincott. She spots him with one of his fellow wolves, a major, getting to a humvee. She tracks the vehicle to its final destination – Monroe Automotive.

The biker decor has been removed, leaving behind a sterile shadow of the former pack headquarters. Dee notices a corner near the back of the bar where there is a gap in their security and sneaks in. Using her new moon’s cunning, she manages slip through into the compound right behind Wincott himself. Once inside the compound, she hides until night, just outside the main building.

Once darkness has fallen, she notices light coming from the second floor and deftly makes her way up there. She reaches Devlin’s room and sees Wincott’s face in the window, but luckily he doesn’t see her. She slips around the corner and into the hallway outside the room. Delia notices her own room has been locked – this is likely where the prisoners are being kept. Wincott’s door is ajar. Sticking to the shadows, she enters the room and hides under the bed in shadow form and waits for Wincott to leave the room.

Wincott is sitting on the bed and Piper is with him. She looks tense and nervous while flipping through a magazine. He gets up and closes the door and then goes over to the bed and touches Piper’s face, caressing her jaw line. He then leaves to use the bathroom. Dee materializes behind Piper and knocks her out. She then steals Wincott’s silver-plated barretta out of the bedside table and heads to the window.

Landing on the concrete below, Dee makes a break for the outer wall, exiting the complex. She hops the fence and heads into the woods just as the search lights go on. Running through the forest, she reaches her bike and slips out of town just out from under the marines noses. Mission accomplished.

Meanwhile, the rains continue from Ukiah all the way south to the city. Brook arrives just in time to join the rest of a pack as they watch a large man in a colorful shirt jab himself with a strange object and plunge the city into the abyss. Suddenly, the pack finds themselves floating above San Francisco, as if they whole city had been sunken in mere moments and devoured by coral.

Walter is the first to realize they are actually in the hisil. He can sense a locus deep below him, but just as he turns to head its direction a swarm of Fomorian fishmen attack. As Devlin enters combat with the Fomorians, Cornell spots the Man in the Grey Suit and grabs onto his back – a risky move that pays off. He also notices the Fomorians attacking White Buffalo. She suddenly transforms herself into a white salmon to escape, but the fishmen are persistent. The voice of Wanda the Bat can be heard in the distance, telling us to leave, but she herself is nowhere to be found. Ross is also missing in action.

As if there was enough to deal with already, emerging from below come three coral golems lined with sharp shells propel themselves upwards to engage the pack, as well as more Fomorians. Walter is struck by one resembling a blowfish and reels back, but his foxfire thankfully works just as well in a watery part of the hisil and he’s able to escape. The rest of the pack fight their own fishmen, A giant whale swimming past lets out a bellow that bursts Walter and Cornell’s eardrums and causes Cornell to go unconscious. With the help of Grey Suit and White Buffalo, they manage to defeat the Fomorians and reach the locus to escape. Brook grabs the unconscious Cornell and Walter uses his fox fire to guide the rest of the pack to the exit.

Waiting for them on the other side are the Golden Gate Guardians and Jorst, their spirit totem, holds the door open for us. Devlin keeps punching the last coral golem as three Fomorians follow us to the locus.The pack manages to finish them off and Stretch and Joe restrain a very injured Grey Man who is still in war form. White Buffalo transforms into a white buffalo calf as she returns to dry land. Jorst is suddenly nowhere to be seen. That’s when I show up in all my glory and explain that the Fomorians used spirit magic to cause a pocket dimension in the hisil that contained their watery battleground.

Grey Man saw Ross get dragged away by a monster with tentacles. He gives the pack a tooth and instructions to talk to White Buffalo about a ritual to help guide Ross back to them. Grey Man comments that he and Simeon had been friends. That this attack was oddly bold for the fomorians. The GGG should stay and guard their patch given this recent event. He exit snack down the hill. Devlin, Walter head back towards the hotel.

Cornell asks white buffalo about the ritual to save Ross. Dev says fuck them, the pack will rescue California themselves and when the GGG need help they can help themselves! Dee returns. Walter agrees to give the evidence to Sheriff Rogers and Jack Rackham in Sacremento to help oust the marines.

The next morning, Dee and Walter go looking for a locus to go hunting for Essence. Cornell finds white buffalo woman turns into a white raven to go do the ritual for Ross. Brook calls Tamina and let’s her know the marines will be ousted from Ukiah soon and wants her help cutting off the HQ. She is concerned about keeping her own interests safe, but she agrees to help if she can and is asked to be kept in the loop.

Dee and Walt run into Zamir of the GGG. She says they can choose two of their members to aid in retaking Ukiah.

Once everyone is gone, Devlin heads to Ukiah. He uses the bullet necklace to disguise himself as a paratrooper spirit and moves through the hisil at the corn hole and travels to Mortis Alestri’s house, the mayor of Ukiah. He goes pale and tells Dev he’s going to get them both killed. Dev tells him he’s done nothing but cause trouble, but Alestri calls Dev a criminal and the club a gang. Dev shoots him three times and stashes the gun slightly concealed in the house. The plan is all coming together. It’s only a matter of time now.

The day started with a rapid thumping coming from the adjacent hotel room. Acting purely on instinct, I grabbed my glock and fired several warning shots at what I thought was the direction of the sound. I wasn’t aiming at anything in particular (Hell, I didn’t even open my eyes) so OF COURSE I hit Cornell in the leg. With both shells. From the shrieks of complaint that immediately followed, I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Somehow, a cup of coffee large enough to get me to stir appeared on my nightstand, so I managed to put on pants, and also drawers. Although not necessarily in that order. Cornell and I took the dividing door over and paid a visit to Delia. She had just returned from spying on the Marines and their weird sex parties. Sure, it was a PR scandal, but not enough to move the entrenched Third Third.

We had gotten some intel of our own about the pure and how they manage to keep their War Eagle sated. All evidence points to the Third suckering in ex-military and ex-police types, by offering them cushy private security work, and then sacrificing them to said eagle. Our theory was that there must be some manner of kill house set up to do so in a relatively organized and mechanical fashion. As much as I would have liked to give Dee some time to rest and a hot meal; the truth is that we’re running out of time, and Dee is our only member with the specialized skill set needed to pull off these sneaking missions. So, we sent her off to Ukiah once more. This time, her mission is to acquire evidence about the kill house, and steal Wincott’s personal sidearm -as a favor to me.

Dee sped off along her mission as the rest of the pack began to wake. Somebody ordered some breakfast burritos by drone. Which, I have no idea how that even works, but hey I won’t argue with free food. Cornell and I sat chilling in front of the motel, with our bounty of burritos splayed out before us, and just sort of naturally received a several callers. First Ross showed up to brief us about the arrival of his people, then Stretch, and we set everything up for the afternoon.

Palaver broke, and everyone went to prepare for the meeting. Meanwhile, Dee was already back in Ukiah, and had sniffed out the kill house. The pure had taken control of the old farmstead that was near the locus we’d named the “cornhole.” Presumably the family that once occupied the farm have already moved on from this world. Dee was able to spot the pure bringing in their latest victim. The clueless mook was shoved headfirst into the shadow not long after arriving. Now we know for sure, but we need hard evidence. As Pacino once said: it ain’t what you know, it’s what you can prove.

Back in Frisco, Cornell, Walt, and I, rode out to the Triple G’s den in the park. Ross was already there, greeting the arriving Fera. Stretch had informed me that I would be granted their den for the moot, and was to preside over it. I don’t know nothin’ about that. Never had a moot before, but I do know you don’t sit at another club’s table, so we made our own. We sat and heard the concerns of the Fera. My pitch was simple: “What are your other options? Sink into the ocean?” Although, many wanted concessions from The People in order to put their necks on the line for us, we were able to work with the Triple G’s representative, Zamir, to try and meet their demands. Shit, it’s pretty much cooperate or die. I don’t know how anyone can refuse to help and still act like they care about the territory. The Fera revealed that they have intel that the Third are allied with the local Fomori for assistance, so that theoretically the Fomors will be left to reign over whatever shitty islands remain after the deed is done. Clearly being “Pure” hasn’t managed to weed out the dumbfuck genes, so, I dunno what the big deal is.

Meanwhile, as everybody’s starting to loosen up a little, this stupid elephant seal jackass cuts his own goddamned arm and out from his worthless body comes a flood of seawater. So now we’re just floating around drowning, and shit. All I know is if this seawater fucks up my leather, somebody’s gonna die.

Leaving what was supposed to be the Shogun’s resting place/prison, Brooke, Cornell, Devlin and Bear Man Ross make the trek up the long stairs in the Lighthouse. Before they travel back to the meat side, they see the sea, ripping at the shore, trying to rise up.

Brooke, Cornell and the Boss decide to go to Fort Bragg, to talk to my cousin Graham and to..deal…with certain situations.

Ross decides to go off on his own, saying he’s going to see if he can get his fellow people to help tracking down the Shogun.

Arriving at Fort Bragg to the gates being patrolled by civilians, the pack is given entrance. They stumble upon a BBQ, as normal and pleasant as can be.

Doesn’t last.

Graham walks up to Dev & Brooke, smiling, asking what this unexpected visit was for. Dev said that there are some issues they want to discuss.

Graham says, “Last time you had issues, you wanted to punch my Elodoth in his face.”

Brooke remarks, “This time we want to punch you in the face.”

So much for diplomacy.

Graham and Brooke walk off into a clearing, Graham shifting into Dalu, getting right up in Brook’s grill, snarls and goes “What’s that about punching me in the face?”

They go back and forth, testosterone flying. Brooke accuses Graham of coming onto our territory, Graham admits it and says we should make it harder to do so. Brooke demands that he leave Madeline alone, and to stay off their territory.

“You want me to leave your girlfriend alone? You get her back in one piece, I’ll come to your territory, and apologize, and never talk to her again, swear to Father Wolf. But if she ends up dead…there’s not going to be peace between your pack and mine. I won’t go to war, but I won’t work with you, won’t even acknowledge you. Nothing”

With that he shifts back to human and rejoins the BBQ, in full swing at this point.

After eating some delicious BBQ (funny how I wasn’t invited) Devlin goes to speak with Lt Torres and the local precinct.

Lt. Torres is a woman in her late 20s, chestnut hair, wearing a button down shirt, with her badge next to her hip revolver.

She looks up from her desk as Dev and Cornell approach. “Are you here to report a crime? Are you sure?

I like her.

Dev tells her how they’ve heard that local police and former military personnel are being recruited as mercenaries, and that there has been reports of homeless veterans going missing. The club is looking into it, because they care about Ukiah.

Torres says that she got a call about consulting in Ukiah, that no one in Fort Bragg was really interested since it’s good here. The company doing the calling is Spivey-Keenn Placement. The contact’s name is Monica. She also provides an address in Ukiah, so all in all, a pretty good recon.

Back at the BBQ party, Jamie Baskerville sits down next to Brooke. She tells him that if he can get his girl out of Ukiah, he could bring her to Fort Bragg, and she’d be safe, without Graham bothering her.

Back in bear country, Ross drives deep into the woods. He senses something is wrong and starts to notice the deeper into the woods that he goes, the more the top of trees start to tilt inward toward each other, eventually ripping themselves from their roots to intertwine like an arch, creating a canopy of trees.

After a while, the road itself becomes nothing but mud, forcing Ross to continue on foot. He stumbles upon a redwood tree that has a tapestry of an eagle created by feathers on it. The the figure is torn in half. Several bald eagles with their heads bowed down surround the tree.

Ross walks up to them and says, “I wish to speak with your leader.”

After a moment of silence, a voice from behind him responds, “Those are birds…”

A young girl with a blond pony tail, in khaki shorts, wearing an olive green shirt with a rangers logo on it, emerges. She introduces herself as Fawn, and she is one of the people.

“Steller is dead. This was his fill (territory) he’d come here and keep it safe for the animals and this was part of his ritual. When he died, the place wasn’t safe anymore, one of these “Earth Storms” turned the whole place FUBAR.”

Ross tells her to warn the people, that the Golden Mountain Shogun is not in his resting place. “The bad werewolves are working with the bad fish people” is the easiest explanation he can give.

He tells her to gather representatives of the tribes and to meet in Golden Gate Park. She seems hesitant, but sprints away.
Ross tries to leave as well, but his foot sinks into the muddy ground. He tries to pull it out, but can’t. The ground won’t let him go.

Ross shifts into WarBear Form (impressive…though I wouldn’t tell it to his face) and rips his foot free. The mud rises and forms into a vaguely human shape with multiple arms, wrapping itself around Ross, trying to drag him underground.

Ross fights back, roaring as he tears the mud creature to pieces.

After fighting it off, Ross realizes that the creature was an earth spirit, spirit of the topsoil, enraged by the earthquake. It had hoped to steal Ross’ essence, since he was the most spiritual thing around the area, in order to remake and regrow itself.

Bit off more then it could chew, apparently.

The pack heads back to S.F. and head straight to Strawberry Hill, to meet up with Stretch.

Devlin decks him with his ring hand.

Can’t blame him.

Boss man accuses Stretch of keeping the Shogun a secret, endangering everyone. Stretch tells him it was The King’s order to do so. They moved the shogun away from his power, to keep him dormant. The power would go to the retainer spirits, who would have no interest in waking him up. They didn’t tell anybody because “only the the worthy would find out, and only in an emergency.”

Stretch admits that they didn’t know The Pure knew about the Shogun, and its location. They had assumed The Pure was just taking over a vulnerable territory.

Devlin asks the question, “What are WE going to do about it?”

Devlin tells Stretch he wants their pack to fight with them, to fight the Pure. Stretch agrees, if the army gets taken out of the equation.

Devlin agrees, that attacking with the army still would just piss off a much larger machine.

Ronnie says that if they stay on the meat side, they won’t have to worry about the Warbird and the war spirits that follow it. If the pack can cripple the Warbird, or scare it off, the war spirits would follow.

Spirits tend to be a hungry lot. War spirits hunger for the thing that war consumes; people’s lives.

Cornell makes the connection that the vets that have been disappearing could have become chow for the war bird. Its ban could be that if it doesn’t eat a soldier everyday, chaos would ensue.

More chaos, that is.

Ross arrives and tells Stretch to expect some were visitors.

Ronnie chimes in with some good news/bad news. She says that if the Shogun is moved, he’ll cause Earthquakes that will destroy Ukiah. Bad news. But wherever he rests, he creates a resonance around himself. He makes wherever he is “the heart of the earth.” That kind of power could move some of California’s focus to Ukiah, making it way more important than it currently is.

Which I guess is a good thing. Makes us a bigger target, though. But that’s just my opinion.

Stretch gifts the pack with a set of talons with a brass bullet worked in, first tongue runes wrapping around it. It will allow any user to appear as any spirit for two hours. At least any spirit whose dust is worked into it. In this case, Paradrop spirits.

Meanwhile, yours truly was off doing some very important espionage work. And by espionage I mean I was taking dirty pics of the upper military brass getting their rocks off.

Fun.

Especially neat was Dyanne Trigger dressed in her Dominatrix outfit. I wonder if I could borrow it…

I head back and meet up with the pack at their hotel in S.F. I showcase my photography skills, and though impressive, we need more. Boss asks me to head back into enemy territory, take pics of the murder factory they most likely have set up to feed the War Bird, and if possible, grab Wincott’s ceremonial pistol.

Sure, I had nothing better to do.

That night, Brooke dreams of the heartbeat of his girl, and from below it, a softer, smaller heartbeat. He wakes up in cold sweat, wolfs out, and heads outside.

Dawn shows up at Ross’ side, telling him that a baker’s dozen of representatives from the changing breeds will arrive. She falls asleep in his bear arms. Adorable.

Outside, they hear the Cahalith howl into the night, summoning the beasts to war.

Pulling into the professional setting of a dive bar, with the gravitas of cigarette haze and neon lighting, we got down to club business. First thing’s first: due to a…“shuffling” of membership, Boss had some new roles to assign. First, we uninimously inducted Dee into the pack, trainee no more. Second, and more importantly, I got promoted to VP. I always knew I’d climb the corporate ladder one way or another.

Next was who to trust for the silver deal: the Estates would give us money and freedom, but probably fuck us over in the end; Calico Jack was more trustworthy and we’d keep control of the flow, but we’d owe him later. There wasn’t much deliberation, probably due to the fact that it’s easier to punch a person who does you wrong than an abstract legal entity, and Walter set up arrangements for Jack.

Werewolf Force, roll out: Dee delivered Walt’s paperwork before buggering off to spy on the military movements in Ukiah; Walt and Brook headed to Tesla to finalize paperwork; and Boss and I headed to the Golden Gate Guardians.
—
In Ukiah, Dee stealthed her way inside, dodging physical alarms and mystic wards in that slinky way she has. Evidently all was well among the populace as can be for a military occupation.

She dropped in on the good ol’ local lawman, who was less than pleased to see her but scurried her inside, making the point that Sons of Thunder were persona non grata in a very lethal kind of way. Sorry, Latin-to-biker translation: if they sees us they gonna shoot us the fuck up. She let the sheriff know that we’re the best chance for giving the 33rd the boot, so any help would be welcome.

The 33rd have been keeping their noses clean, but he noted that there’s some unusual activity at our garage, including the presence of people important to the Sons taking up a sort of “permanent residence”. Likely that it’s double-duty bait and hostage scenario, in addition to the place being made the 33rd’s high command.

He also mentioned that Traeger was getting on in a rape-y sort of way with him and probably some others as well, so there’s that, should we go the Court Martial route. Also amiss, his cop friends have been getting offers for private security work…in a town overrun with Marines, and that’s not suspicious in the slightest. And one last thing: some of the homeless in town have gone missing, all of them veterans.

It was a perplexing mishmash of info, but it was enough to get Dee going, starting with questioning deputy sergeant Roebut. And go she did – right out the window and down the balconies because fuck physics.
—
Meanwhile in the mountains, Brook and Walt made a 2am arrival in Tesla, just in time for a midnight meeting at the center of town, flanked by a pair of choppers and a tense standoff between mercs and miners. The mercs, in that adorably dominant way that they envision themselves having, demanded identification. Brook identifies themselves as owners of the mine, Walt provides the physical evidence, and the G.I. Jokes reluctantly let the pair through to the meeting between Bea and Vanderwald.

Vanderwald called bullshit on our claim on account of being outlaws. Walt lawyered right the fuck back with the validity of our LLC. Vanderwald accused us of exploiting the miners; Walt objected with assertions of ethics and oh my god would someone just LIGHTSOMETHING ON FIREALREADY?!

Bea finally steps in and slaps Vanderwald with a denial, adding that we’ve tried to help the miners out while Vanderwald and her ilk have tried to make slaves of them. Defeated, Vanderwald leaves in one of the two whirlybirds with a suspiciously pleasant demeanor. Obviously, she’s plotting something.

Bea goes over the final details with Brook and Walt: the deed’s in whomever’s name we want, but the Sons get a part of the profits and silver. With everything all nice and legal-like, Walt and Brook take off, Brook letting Bea know how to get ahold of us if things get hairy.

Bushed from a very long day of legaling, Walter heads to his SF hotel while Brook catches up to Boss and I.

After a restful night, Jorst greets Walter when he awakes, which is totally not an invasion of personal privacy. Jorst, it would seem, is unhappy with his pack’s “caginess” and has little patience for our “pissing matches”, as he calls them (it’s called “asserting dominance”; Jesus, watch a Nat Geo documentary). Vital information was withheld from the Sons of Thunder, specifically information around the Golden Mountain Shogun, the manipulation of his retainers, and his new residence: Ukiah. The Guardians were trying to keep the Shogun safe, but now that things have gone tits-up (my words, not Jorst’s, in case you wondered) it’s working to their disadvantage.

Oh, hey, and the Pure are trying to wake the Shogun in order to sink California so that the only dry land that remains is territory under their control, because why have a mustache if you’re not going to villainously twirl it.
—
In Frisco, Boss and I met with Stretch and Zamir at some little cafe for coffee, and they brought a date: an earthy-smelling block of meat and hair who called himself Ross and needs our help in some way.

Dev fills Stretch in on the goings-on in San Jose: all is good but there’s an MC of leeches called the Los Brujas that could cause future problems with drug running. Now, we need help closing up on Wincott and 33rd. This gets Ross’ attention as the 33rd have taken over Point Arena.

Ross takes issue with this his for his own reasons, but for us there’s a lighthouse there with a strong connection point to the Hisil. The Fomorians have been working on the Golden Mountain Shogun to try and sink California by exploiting all of the temples devoid of their guardians, and that lighthouse is our way in.

Wolves and bear-man – who is HUGE once he stands up; he makes this guy I once knew, Six-Six Sam, look petite by comparison – and high tail it up the coast to Mendocino, riding through the pouring rain.

Point Arena is creepy and foggy and infested with marines guarding our lighthouse.

I work a little spirit mojo to screw with their com equipment; Boss has Ross create a distraction while he and I get furry to slip through. Ross shifts as well…into a giant motherfucking werebear.

That was not expected, yet satisfyingly apropos.

A two ton roaring Ross charges down the humvees; a distraction has been made. Marines scream in terror and begin firing on the lunacy-inducing werebear, starting a short battle that ended with dead marines and bloody werebeasts.

Brook pulls up in time to see Ross putting his pants on, realizing he missed a party, though unsure if it was one he wanted to be at. He cautiously greets Ross and the two introduce each other, and we all swap stories. Boss figures we’re being watched, what with Blue Jay being at the Tesla mines before we could tell him no.

We head through the lighthouse into the Hisil, which is swarming with para-drop spirits while a prudent TLE watches from the distant treeline. Inside, stairs head down, so down we go. After an eternity we reached the scalding cathedral chamber of the Shogun with hundreds of earth sprit retainers holding court around a pit to the center of the earth and a very empty Shogun throne.

Ross loudly demands audience with the Shogun, in much the tactful way that a real bear demands your face meat. The retainers, in not-at-all-creepy unison, proclaim that he slumbers elsewhere, taken by those who vanquished him, Uratha who originally took him down. The vanishing retainers have been brought by the Silver pure to be bound here to hold up the San Andreas Fault in the Shogun’s absence. The Shogun who has been moved to Ukiah.

Because of course he has. Thanks for the exciting territory, Scarpa.

The spirits bade us to leave before the Pure return through the tunnel that they point out at the back of the cathedral, a wide tunnel leading east, likely to Ukiah.

I slept, I dreamed, I foretold. California, pumping blood. But it wasn’t pumping blood it was pumping silver. The heart’s rhythmic “lub-dub” was replaced by a money press’s “cha-ching”, “cha-ching”. And everything was as it should be. Everything would die without the lifeblood.

We rode to Sac to see about securing financial and legal means to run the silver mine in Tesla. There were two earthquakes on the way there. They were particularly disturbing as Cornel had recently found out that Wincot had been rounding up earth spirits for some unknown purpose.

We didn’t have to look to hard for investment advice regarding the Tesla silver mine. Two eager parties emerged shortly after our arrival in downtown Sac.

Venture Estates – a powerful investment firm used to dealing with “unique” clientele – offered funding to help get the mine running. We would run the mine and collect profits and in return they would get partial ownership. The terms were vague without an actual contract but sounded reasonable.

Before we were able to move forward with Venture Estates an Assemblyman – Calaco Jack – approached the club. He basically told us that Venture Estates are dicks who want control of the silver and will be happy to line our pockets to gain that control.

Jack offered his contacts to help us get the mine running under the table and in return he would take a small cut – as a guarantee that he wouldn’t rat us out. But the control of the mine, the silver, and any influence it brought would be ours.

The beating heart of California pumps silver. And the Ukiah pack must control that flow – no one else. It remains unclear if a power-hungry group like Venture Estates would allow that control to remain with us.

Before we could make any final decisions Thunder Bird’s Last Echo came and warned us that Cornel was in trouble. We rode to an the old military base and – from the hisul – walked down into a deep pit underneath it.

There we found an ancient tectonic plate spirit. His people had been attacked by werewolves – Wincot’s people no doubt. He mistook us for the same and nearly attacked us if it wasn’t for Devlins quick talking.

He told us that Wincot was trying to wake the Shogun – an unimaginably powerful spirit whose rage would cause California to fall into the sea. It seems Wincot wants to enslave the Shogun, a task that if he completes will give him the power to raze cities. I think that one deserves to be underlined on the thread down list.

Breaking into a mining complex guarded by what amounts to a private army? With the daughter of the devil? Now this is unexpected. I like unexpected. The devil’s daughter, who says her name is Sara, formulated a plan to get us into the complex, involving some hiking gear and a story about how we are recently married. I like this one, she’s clever. We walk right up to the gate, donning the grin that we wear so well, and do a decent job of acting the part. Sara, however, is brilliant. It’s difficult to believe she is even the same person. I wonder if she would give lessons.

A few carefully chosen words and some well placed ass slaps later, and we find ourselves in an adequately hospitable room waiting to speak to someone in charge about an investment. For the moment though, a shower and some further scheming. Sara goes to work on the destruction of this place from the inside, beginning with the summoning of..something? An oni? Well, whatever it is it’s not pretty to look at and has a voracious appetite. The two of them set out.

Sara has been gone now for several minutes and we are growing restless. I slip into my fox form and climb out the window to see what I can see – then I remember the miners. Our mission was to free the miners while the boys dealt with the “licks”. I head for the barracks. Inside I find Sara surrounded by several people who can only be the enslaved workers. I reveal myself and we continue to plot. Now the fun begins. The miners, led by Sara, assault the army that has been imprisoning them. The air is thick with chaos and I drink it in as I feed the flames with my illusions. There is death on both sides. When the smoke clears, we are victorious.

Soon after, the boys emerge from the mine with reports of dead vampires and a little girl in tow. Turns out she’s the daughter of a woman named Bea. She speaks to the pack and tells them the miners are willing to stay, but they no longer want to be slaves. The mine should become communal. We recall Senator Delgado, a part owner in this mine. There is more work to be done.

Eddie knew things were different, after the change, after Eyes-and-Teeth found him, after his pack explained to him that things were going to be oh so very different. But man, this right here is some crazy spiritual journey shit. Or maybe like Star Wars.

My Obi-wan was dead… probably. Maybe worse, hopefully better. Just like in the movie, never found the body. Of course, I never saw Kaya die either. You know what? This is nothing like Star Wars. My hair is way cooler than Luke’s. Though, there is a certain resemblance to Chewbacca on occasion.

So, vampires. Fuckin-A, am I right? Who’d have thought all this Dracula and Wolfman shit was real? Hope to hell that I don’t run into a Mummy or Black Lagoon creature. After everything I’ve seen in the past few days, I’m pretty sure dragons are real, Satan has an army of them, and Jesus rides a damn unicorn. I mean, I was told there was some supernatural nastiness that we were organizing to fight against, but when they said vampires, I didn’t really take it seriously. Big mistake.

Luckily, some other wolf-dudes showed up in town, took those blood suckers down a peg or two. I followed ’em. Needed some answers, but more importantly, some allies to help get the answer to the questions really burning in my brain. Were Kaya and Frank still alive?

Leader of the crew is nothing like Eyes-and-Teeth. Looks like some bad boy blondie in a boy band trying to look tough in a leather motorcycle club jacket, goes by Devlin. But looks are deceiving; he and his packs are tough hombres. That’s good. I need strength. Vengeance doesn’t pay heed to the weak.

I left Katie behind to watch and page me if those walking corpses got back up out of the hospital and followed these guys all the way up to some place called Tesla. Page came through about an hour or so outside of Needles so I called her from a pay phone at a fast food joint to learn the vampires had loaded up in their truck and were on the way in a hurry. Caught up with the pack and their bikes on a side road and introduced myself and the load of trouble heading our way.

A couple of gas cans and the stolen Toyota I’d driven up there in provided a good ambush. We lit those blood suckers up and dragged one of ‘em out of there for questioning later. Looked dead to me, but wasn’t a pile of ash either, so I figure I’d listen to the crazy Satanist chick who advised us during the ambush from afar. Wasn’t until after the fight I found out nobody knew here either. Conjunction of the spirits in your favor, collect six new allies! Go directly to Boardwalk.

Spent the rest of the night burying the vehicle wrecks down an embankment off the road. British devil-child seemed to enjoy watching me and the other dudes with our shirts off, when we weren’t shifted into Urshu, that is. She’s pretty hot, and not a wolf. She might be down for some extracurricular mind and body expanding celebration after this whole vengeance bit gets resolved. Pretty sure I can scrounge up some peyote out here.

Brit laid out the situation and Devlin’s pack did some recon. Bunch of soldier of fortune types had a work camp set up and fortified around a mine of some sort. Someone mentioned silver and mint, but not sure what they have to with each other. Just makes me think of that York peppermint patty candy in the super market. Totally overpriced for what you get, if you ask me. Definitely not what is going on though.

Ate some canned food in Brit’s hunter’s blind then got some sleep. Wake and baked to take the edge off and we all shifted Urhan to discreetly make our way to some big house on the outskirts of the town. Even Brits changed, but apparently she’s a wizard or something. Claims she is Satan’s daughter. Whatever, it’s cool. Everyone’s got beliefs and it seems they are all based on this new reality I’m a part of. Besides, she shared her home, she’s cool in my book.

We made it down into the hedge works around the front of the house when pretty boy decides that he’s gonna mark his territory. He’d pointed out that as the last member of my pack, I was an alpha too. I couldn’t refuse the challenge, even though it was totally the wrong place to do it, but I didn’t know he’d take it so seriously that he’d force the issue then. Tried to reason with Devlin but he’d have none of it, so we threw down and I backed off after testing who he’s made of. His good looks are deceiving, dude’s hard as nails. Mad respect.

We run into trouble with some guard dogs, Devlin seems to speak their language but they won’t back down. Their pack leader shows up. Straight up corpse dog. I do my best to watch Devlin’s back as he tangles with the alpha business, the rest of his pack does the same and we drive the dogs off. Some soldiers start heading our way from the main camp about a half mile away, coming to investigating the dog fight. The old asian guy ain’t like the others, though. He’s some sort of fluffy fox thingy. He straight up creates a deer out of thin air to trick the dudes into thinking the dogs were chasing it. They seems satisfied and turn around.

I slip in through a window and open the front door for everyone. Finally I feel useful. We hear people sleeping downstairs, so the group moves upstairs searching for clues. I stay downstairs and look over valuables, loading up a table cloth and setting it outside. They must have heard me riffling through stuff, though, because they start to wake up and investigate. Knowing my jam is busted, I beat feet upstairs and down the opposite hallway the others took, hoping to catch them in a nasty little ambush. It works.

Not sure what all happened, exactly, but I held a bedroom door closed to draw their attention, and once the others attacked, I flung it open and strangled the lead guy with my chain. Took awhile, the guy was pretty strong, but eventually he went to sleep.

Apparently Devlin and the others got what they were there to get and we raced off back into the woods, loot and everything. I don’t care what their plan is, so long as we shut this place down, put those vampires in the grave for good, and hopefully find Frank and Kaya alive.

The people often label non kinfolk humans as “mortals.” It is a distinction meant to create separation. They are not part of our world, they are inferior, and they are prey. Though in the truest sense of the word, each and every one of us is mortal: from the oldest and wisest wolves, to the most ancient and amaranthine of worms. Death is the only promise this life makes to us, and none of us can hope to escape its consummation. We are all tiny motes of dust swept onward by the inexorable rush of time. The joke is that, even though we’re made well aware of this bargain early on in life, we never stop being crushed by it. Every time we have to come face to face with death, it takes a piece of us with it.

Today, I had to say goodbye to my VP. My packmate. My dear friend.

Luc was a Rahu of distinction. He was a fearless warrior, a skilled soldier and tactician. He believed in this club, and devoted himself to the pack. He was my brother, and now his struggles have ended. His story has been told, and he may rest. For the rest of the pack, we now carry the weight of the life that was lost in defense of our territory. Territory that I have been, thus far, too weak to hold.
It happened too fast to really process. While the club was busy having a shootout with the Brujos, Luc had headed back down to Ukiah to help our spirit allies endure the coming onslaught. I told him to be careful, but I had a bad feeling about the whole thing. Still, the spirits down there had risked much to help us topple the Hangman, and we were honor bound to offer any aid we could. Then, earlier today Cornell comes stumbling into our trailer at the crack of dawn, carrying Luc on his back. We could tell right away that something was wrong. Human senses aren’t acute enough to pick up on it, but living flesh and cold flesh have two completely different scents.

Cornell explained how they were ambushed Wincott’s men, and though they put up a good fight, their main enforcer showed up and instigated a death rage in Luc that would be his last. The Third Third had paid a dear price for taking Luc from us, however we are not like a normal pack. We are a club, and a brotherhood. We are one wolf, and the loss of our VP is like a vital part of our body being severed. It will take time to heal, and we will always bear the scar.

Our work continues, however. So after providing Luc his final rites, we rode down to Needles to hunt down the Deadwood press. As we approached, Cornell kept seeing markings from the local pack, claiming the territory. My plan was to be in and out of this shithole before anyone could even notice, but the pack was uneasy with that idea, so we rode out to the actual Needles monument to try and introduce ourselves. Something had already went down, however, and whatever pack had been there was long gone. I take to no pleasure in saying so, but whomever they are, they weren’t strong enough to hold their territory. Were it not for Wincott’s hubris, I might have suffered the same fate.
With the local pack out of the picture, we were free to seek out our mission without any Uratha interference. We headed to a local touristy watering hole, and questioned the barman about our target, Wendal Merch. His house was just around the corner in the “affluent” district of town. Okay, if you say so.
We went to investigate and ran into a wall of dickhead cops. Either they were on the take from something else that goes bump in the night, or they just thought we weren’t respectable enough to walk their vaunted two-floor Victorian cul-de-sac. Doesn’t matter, they might as well be flies buzzing around roadkill. I do my best not to punch any of them. The sergeant passively threatens us by mentioning all the backup he can muster. “You call anyone you want.” I say. I leave out the “I just hope you have enough hospital beds” part.
We approach Merch’s house, and can see clearly that it’s been broken into already. Walt decides to announce this directly to the police sergeant so as to give them probable cause. I swear man, good lawyer, terrible criminal. Luckily Dudley Do-Right was so far up his own ass he didn’t interfere. Instead he starts hassling some bum while I crack the lock to Merch’s front door.

Of course the place has been ransacked, and of course Merch is missing. Doesn’t matter, we’re after the press, and the silver. We bounce. While we’re getting ready to leave, Walt redeems himself by getting some intel from the bum, who must have unknowingly witnessed the break-in. The bum fingers some redneck meatheads who frequent what the locals call the “Night Camp”. It’s basically just a black market bazar. At the same time, Dee overhears the cops confirming backup over the radio, which is our cue to leave. We ride out, grab some chow and wait for night to fall before we check out this camp.

Sure enough, we find the culprits in the Night Camp, hiring day laborers or something. I approach them in a stance that is decidedly not diplomatic. I don’t care. Just hours ago I buried my friend, and then spent the afternoon being annoyed by the 5-0. I needed to dish out some pain. Thankfully, team redneck was not forthcoming. The dude I was talking to tried to back off though. Sorry son, it’s not going down quietly tonight. I launch an attack and the pack quickly follows suit. A few punches in and the asshole I’m fighting starts using his glowy vampire bullshit. “Good” I think, real good. That means we don’t have to hold back. All these fuckers are already dead. I shift to Dalu and unleash hell. By the time we’re finished with them, the place looks like a charnel house, and the humans have completely lost their shit. We hear sirens in the near distance, and we know that our time in Needles has come to an end.

Thank the Father for Brooke, though. He had enough sense about him to squeeze some information from one of the leeches during the scuffle, and one that I dropped was holding an annotated map. That’s as good as we’re gonna get. We hop on our bikes and burn rubber into the night. I really hope this leads somewhere, but if not, at least we rid the world of some scumsucking worms.
I’m going to need a lot more whiskey before this storm has passed, and a lot more people are going to have to die; but I will reclaim my territory. I will repave the roads, and rebuild on top of our enemies’ bones.

After taking a breather and filling up on Essence, Dev talks to the heads of the GGG. They seem nice enough, though I’m pretty sure we could take ‘em if we had to. But we’re playing nice right now, so let’s go with that.

A spirit scouting for the GGG reports two Ivory Talons chasing out World’s Largest and some of his pals into the woods and are leading an assault against them. That’s not good since we’re allies, sorta.

Luc and Cornell take off to help them out, while the rest of us stick around here. Those two should make for an interesting team-up.

Once we leave our hosts, Dev lets us in on some info. Wincottt is related to Dev, by blood — his uncle or something. Dev never knew him, never heard about him. Apparently his mom kept a lot to herself. He’s pretty sure Wincott is telling the truth, having no reason to lie.

Dev seems more embarrassed than anything, so Brook and I back him up, agreeing he’s a Storm Lord, and nothing like Wincott.

“This guy is powerful, like Braggart is powerful,” Devlin says. “That’s not what concerns me. We don’t know anything about him, we don’t know the size of his pack, or how powerful they are. My main concern is he’s entrenched himself in the military, and has these machines at his bidding. He seems to have a lot of Wolf-Blooded soldiers.”

“We’re not ceding our territory. But until we can separate him from his war machine, we can’t take him on. We take Stretch’s advice, we take his words at face value, for now, because it appears everyone is under siege. If we help our allies become stronger, then in turn, we become stronger too. Our number-one priority is to dismantle Wincottt’s war machine.”

Brook and I nod. We need to learn as much as we can about his Marine division, and find a way to pull them back.

Brook goes, “His war machine is American military. He’s breaking a lot of rules.”

Dev agrees, “Which means no one is paying attention to where this money is going, or he has some friends. Whatever it is, we have to find a way to reverse that. We need someone who has more authority to pull his units back.”

Brook suggests going to the press, but since everything is fractured now, word might not spread fast enough.

“For now,” Dev says, “We head down to San Jose, do what we can to help out. For now.”

So we ride to San Jose, ending up at “Santa Clara Paintball.” We spot a few families hanging out, and a rather large looking lady who sticks out like a sore thumb. Most likely a bodyguard of some kind.

Behind the front counter is an athletic woman in a tank top and jeans, who waves us over. She classes up the joint. Turns out she’s the contact Stretch told Dev about, Brigid Sayuri.

Brook can feel heat radiating off the girl, like a warm summer day.

Turns out her problem is this: “A Mexican motorcycle club called Los Malditos has been passing through San Jose and back once a month. Every time they come through, meth heads have an easier time getting a fix. And they pay for everything in silver.”

Apparently that’s a thing now, folks going back to paying with precious metal. Why’d it have to be silver…?

Brigid continues: “So what I need is a bunch of hard-asses to intercept the drugs and coins. The drugs are more important. Then once we figure out who’s making the meth the bikers are distributing, we’ll need help to take them down. I need someone to bloody their noses, grab some meth, and bring it back to me.“

Dev asks whether the club are “special” like us, or whether Brigid is of the people. No to both. Brook deduces though, that Brigid and the large guard are most like fairies.

Huh. Who knew fairies were a thing?

Following some negotiation on payment, including connecting us with some people in government, we head down the 17 to prepare an ambush.

A few hours after dark, we spot five tough-looking guys on bikes headed our way. Brook begins the siege with some Iron Treachery, causing them to swerve and spot us.

While the boys have their fun, I start to do a smash and grab, getting their gear away from them, hoping the currency & drugs are in them.

At one point we hear a shot fired from the distance, hitting one of the vatos before they could wail on Brook.

After a scuffle that ends with most of the bikers dead (hey, they pulled heir guns first) we search their bags. We find some weed, heroin and more importantly the silver coins, stamped with a skull on one side and a spade on the other.

But no meth.

Brook comes up with the idea to check their gas tanks. Sure enough we find several tubes filled with crystal. We head back to the trailer park Brigid set up for us.

While we were off running our errand, Walter kept busy making phone calls at an office Brigid took him to. Turns out Sheriff Rodgers isn’t exactly happy about the occupation Ukiah. He says he and the mayor have a daily meeting with Colonel Miller, and officially, the Marines are in town “due to the state of emergency caused by the shanty town.” Refugee Town has been surrounded by barbed wire, and though they used some of the union guys to build it, no one has been allowed to leave.

The sheriff admits the Marines have been well behaved, for the most part. Some of his people have noticed several of the command staff has been spotted repeatedly places they have no reason to be, including near the Union Hall, the redwood tree filling station and various parks. They go in, stay a while, then come back out. Looking for Loci, no doubt.

Walter calls the garage, to check up on our people. A stern sounding woman picks up, and quick as a fox, Walter disguises his voice, to ask about getting his car serviced.

“The garage is currently closed.” Hang up.

Before he can call back, a knock at Walter’s office door makes him look up. An older gentleman,

a gaunt fellow of sixty-something with a cane. He has keen eyes and a hooked, once-broken nose. His once-blonde hair is now very pale yellow, and he sports thick eyebrows and permanent stubble. He dresses in khakis, loafers, and button-down shirts.. Of course his jacket elbows are patched.

“Hello. My name is Peter Forsythe, Brigid’s father. I’m a professor of Japanese studies and history at San Jose State.”

Walter feels the intense heat of a midsummer day radiating off Forsythe.

They have quite a bit in common, and spend some time together, and Forsythe suggests Walter learn to defend himself if he plans to pal around with rough characters like us.

The next day, as we arrive back at the paintball place, we see a girl with her hair pinned back like rabbit ears riding off on a bike, a hunting rifle strapped to her back. Dev asks about her, and it turns out it was our mystery sniper from the night before.

Showing Brigid the goods, she confirms the coins are pure silver. She studies the imprints on the coins and suggests we check out the library to learn more about the symbols. Tells us she’ll be going to talk to the woman in charge of pushing crank around these parts, and she’ll be grateful for the tip. We tag along, while Walter heads to the library to do some research.

At the library, he learns the symbols go back to the Dakota territories, to when mine owners used to print chit to pay the workers. This obviously wasn’t looked well upon since specific chit would only be accepted at specific mine stores, and owners could keep their workers forever in debt.

He also finds out out the machine used to make these new coins is called the Deadwood Press, and that an article about it was recently written by Alicia Tildon, who works at the Numismatics Department at San Jose State. Walter decides to pay her a visit.

Walter looks for his new pal, Professor Forsythe, to help point him in the right direction. He arrives at the expert’s office and sees feet twitching on the floor behind a desk. He slolwy walks towards them and finds a brunette laying in a spreading pool of blood, her throat savagely torn apart.

He hears running outside the office and he gives chase, as the lights in the building go out. Walter runs into the hallway, but is ambushed and slammed into a row of lockers. A bald Hispanic man with a tattooed tattooed scalp, wearing a biker cut, mouth dripping with blood.

“Looking into the wrong coins, old man!” The vato bares his fangs.

Walter sets himself “on fire” causing the vamp to scream in terror, flinging the illusioned up Walter away. Walter shifts into fox form, zips into an open file cabinet and hides. The vampire comes searching, but Walter leaps out of a window, landing in a tree as the vamp follows.

Walter goes invisible and watches as the vampire meets up with Professor Forsythe. The professor doesn’t seem at all distressed to see a bloody vampire hanging around, and instead insults the creature. The vamp curses at the professor and attacks. He leaps at Forsythe, and has his head hacked off in one clean swipe.

The flicks cleans the blood from his sword, sheathes it in his cane, shakes his head and goes, “The people we let into this school..”

Walter shows himself to Forsite and together they find a file in Alicia’s office entitled “Deadwood Press.” Watler quickly goes through it and sees that a collector named Murch purchased the press, and is currently living in Needles, on the California/Arizona/Nevada Border. Forsythe gives Walter a ride back to the pack.

Brigid leads us to the suburbs of Santa Cruz, where we pull up to a house with several attractive black guys hanging out, some gardening, some reading text books. A pretty teenage girl comes out to greet us. She takes us to the backyard where there’s a huge BBQ shindig going down.

A large black woman walks up with a giant bowl of coleslaw. In a Caribbean accent, she welcomes us to eat, calling herself Mama Crystal.

Nicest drug lord in town, I’ll tell you what.

Mama Crystal and Dev talk potential partnership, the rest of us chowing down. As we do, the power goes out all around the neighborhood.

That’s my cue and I melt into the darkness.

Shots ring out, coming from the surrounding woods. Everyone leaps into action, including the party goers. Tables are turned for cover, everyone pulls guns from all manner of hiding places. Mama Crystal reaches under her sink and grabs a shotgun as someone kicks in the front door.

A guy who looks like one of Los Malditos rushes up the hill, jumps the fence, and leaps a good twelve feet onto the roof of the house, while the leader of the Los Malditos ride from last night — the guy we thought we killed — charges into the house.

Dev shifts into Dalu and charges at the leader, who flashes his fangs. I eviscerate the leeches as Brook fires shots into them. Dev finishes the job by throwing the last standing vamp into the BBQ Pit, watching as it thrashes and screams.

Mama Crystal stands by Devs side, pumps her shotgun and says “I’m gonna have a word with Mr. Staggart.”